Emotion
by KillersXInXIce
Summary: Omega wasn't incapable of emotion. In fact, Max made him feel all sorts of things. Among them was the desire to possess her completely. Updated!
1. Chapter One

**AN: So this would be the first fic I've written in several years. I got really caught up in roleplaying ((shameful headhang)) and whatnot. But now I'm going to try this again. I hope you enjoy.**

**I plan on getting better. I promise.**

**- - - - - - - -**

It wasn't that he was necessarily incapable of emotion. He wasn't a robot; they hadn't programmed all feelings out of him. Omega simply didn't quite know how to work with them.

The first time he had ever felt a true and mind-boggling rush of emotion was when he laid eyes on Maximum Ride at the rally. His first instinct was to defeat her in every task, every test, to be better than her. Faster. Stronger. Smarter. But as each phase wore on, he found himself more and more intrigued by the smart-mouthed experiment the Director had dubbed a failure. She was strong, beautiful, led by her courage and will with such great stamina and confidence that it sparked in him most peculiar sensations.

Eventually Omega felt a yearning to see her again. Now and then he roamed the halls of Itex headquarters, his face blank, pale eyes as fixed as steel, and simply thought. None of the caged children interested him. Only the prospect of finding Max did.

His interest never showed. Marian was unaware of the way his eyes fixed on Max's face whenever it came up on a screen or in a picture. Years of stifling human emotion early on as a child made it easy enough anymore. But inside he could not deny the inexorable pull that cried out for him to find her. Omega wanted to request a rematch and defeat her.

And yet…he also wished to possess her. So many times had he heard of what an uncooperative and elusive creature she was. To own Maximum Ride would be the ultimate prize, the greatest accomplishment, surely. The pride, the satisfaction, the pleasure.

Omega's handsome young face frowned ever so slightly. What exactly did pleasure feel like? He was not so sheltered as to not know what sex was. All animals partook in it, or so he was led to believe. Wasn't he an animal? A perfect, well-designed animal superior to the rest? If anyone deserved to gain pleasure out of life, surely it was he.

And who was worthy of him? No one but Maximum Ride. _The _Maximum Ride. Not her clone, none of the other flock, just her. Her power, her strength, her soul, her body; he deserved to own it all. To own her. They would be the greatest team ever to grace the planet.

The Director's words were law, yet he could not help but privately doubt her opinion on the avian hybrid and feel that if anyone were to be his match, it was Maximum. They could reproduce. Their DNA combined into a child would certainly result in a god-like being.

Perhaps Marian would see his reasoning and agree. Perhaps she would deliver the girl to him so that he could—what did they call it?—woo her and continue from there.

A smile graced his lips for a fraction of a second as Omega changed his course and made his way to the Director's office to propose this idea. After all, he felt he deserved for this wish to be granted. And that made him feel…happy.

**- - - - - - - - - - - -**

**AN: Yaaay I'm done. Feel free to honestly tell me what you thought. Omega's just such a fascinating (if minor) character to me, and Max/Omega makes me giddy.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** This story was meant as a one-shot, but with so many requests to continue it I finally worked up a new chapter. Enjoy! There will be more to come, and this time it won't take two years.

**: : :**

The first sensation Max was aware of was the cold.

It was a crisp, nauseating sort of cold that felt slimy to her, perhaps because that particular chill came laden with memories.

And then she became aware of the metal cuffs around her wrists and ankles, and an uncomfortable binding around her wings beneath her. Her wits were dulled even as her senses remained sharp. Max could scarcely process the room around her. She could only feel, could only understand the raw sense of touch that told her of the biting cold and metal that held her.

Pieces of memory came around.

_There is a face flashing in her mind, a handsome face framed with chestnut hair and tortoiseshell eyes. It is anxious, concerned, and familiar._

"_Sam?"_

_Disbelief. Caution. She remembers those feelings._

And then little else.

**: : :**

Marian Janssen was not a patient woman. Ever since Omega had failed her at the rally, she'd regarded him with more disdain by the day. Her greatest pride let himself be bested by her greatest enemy. Still, after so much time in hiding since the fall of her headquarters, she could not grasp how he'd fallen under the fist of that awful brat who so plagued her plans.

She sighed heavily into the hands clasped before her mouth. The facility in which she worked now was a meager, scantily supplied base she'd kept waiting in case Germany ever fell through. Now she and what little team she had left produced mistake after mistake. Her inspiration and genius were hindered.

All because of that girl.

Omega waited quietly as Janssen sorted through her thoughts, and her silence only lasted another moment.

"When you came to me with your request, I was…displeased, to say the least."

The boy didn't move, didn't flinch under her soul-tearing gaze.

"That you wished to have Maximum Ride as anything other than an opponent astounded and offended me," Janssen went on. "I created and trained you to retire her. More than sixty years went into your design, and yet more years were spent founding your destiny as the superior."

He was, she persisted. He would always be. To her, at least.

"And then you come to me with a different desire. I wondered how long this hair-brained scheme festered in your head before you came to me," she nearly spat. "And then I realized…it didn't matter."

Her disapproval warped into an unpleasant smile. She unclasped her hands and held them out palm-up, as though welcoming Omega's brilliance rather than cursing him for his confusion.

"What a pair," Janssen said quietly. "The two greatest humanoid successes in genetics together as a team. It took me a moment to comprehend the ingenious of it! Certainly, Maximum Ride could be coerced into fighting alongside you, and at last I will have regained the power I need to procure the necessary supplies for my research!"

The slightest crease formed in Omega's brow. It was his only hint of confusion.

"Your mistake in Germany cost me greatly, to be sure, but with an unstoppable pair such as this, I will once again be in the position to demand what I need. And offspring," the Director breathed. "If possible, your lines will carry on and be yet more powerful. Your children and their children, they may continue to be the insurance of my endeavors for decades to come."

Janssen turned away from him and turned her attention to the monitor farthest right on her wall. There lay the avian hybrid in question straining futilely at her binds. Capture had been a success.

"Go now," she told Omega. "You may speak to her for only five minutes. Afterwards, report back to me."


	3. Chapter 3

**Voila, it is a chapter three.**

**

* * *

**

"_What are you doing here?"_

_He fidgets uncomfortably and glances around the fast-food restaurant. Max notices that he shuffles his feet. _

_She thinks he is ashamed of something. Being in league with Itex back in Virginia, maybe, when she had spared her time for him in a romantic setting._

_Good. He should be ashamed. Those few hours could have easily been spent knocking some bad guy's teeth out and working off some heat._

"_I need to talk to you," he says._

"_Well, that's just too bad."_

_

* * *

_

The room was still cold.

Max had soon given up pulling at her restraints before her wrists and ankles became purple with bruising. Experience told her that the bindings were solid, and no amount of tugging could rip them from the bolts fastening them to the table. The drugs were also wearing off; her heartbeat returned to its usual rate, thoughts racing, panic pushing against her forced calm. She took a heavy breath and closed her eyes.

Someone would eventually come. They always did. And then she would know for what purpose she'd been kidnapped, whether the other members of her flock were involved, stashed somewhere else in the facility, and could begin making plans to escape.

The bad guys always lost.

She always won.

It was almost routine anymore.

Still, the memory plagued her. It was becoming more and more clear as her thoughts regained clarity.

"_Please,"_ the memory insisted. _"Just for a minute, and I'll leave you alone."_

Well. She _was _alone.

"Son of a bitch," Max said to the emptiness. "Why do I even bother being the nice guy, ever?"

The door opened as if in response. The noise almost made her jolt, and she craned her head to give a nasty glare to whoever had entered. Unfortunately, the identity of her captor weakened the viciousness of her expression and a shock shot through her just as Max locked gazes with a pair of silvery blue eyes. Forcing her glare to turn cold, she snorted and followed his progress as he walked around the room to stand at her side.

"Look what the biogenetically altered cat dragged in," Max said. "You know, I thought you'd be weaned off the bottle by now. Mommy Dearest still keeping close tabs?"

He didn't answer her at first. A brief look revealed that he seemed to be studying her face.

She scowled again.

"What do you want, RoboFreak? I thought you were out of my life, like, more than half a year ago."

"I have been alive," Omega told her, even though Max figured that him standing beside her was proof enough. "Opponents do not often leave one another be after a single match, do they?"

"No," she conceded with a snort, "I guess I was just hopeful."

His eyes shifted. The flicker caught her attention, and when it happened again she noticed that he was taking in her spread-eagle body, slowly memorizing the sight of her lying flat before him. To her horror, his stare settled on her breasts and hip area a second longer than anywhere else. Quite suddenly Max figured that yanking at her ties was once again a viable option.

"What the hell are you looking at?" she snarled, despite the heat of humiliation rushing to her face. "Buzz off, you little creep, or I'll kick your eyes in!"

Omega met her eyes once again and paused. Max was breathing heavily with her teeth bared in an ugly snarl that she hoped was intimidating enough to even someone who had no emotion. He flinched, but not to recoil; instead, he was lifting his arm, which had thus far remained hanging at his side.

_A syringe_, she thought with dread. _He's going to inject me with some what's-it, and then I'm really screwed._

There was a flash of rich, deep pink and dark green. Omega shoved his fist forward towards her face close enough that Max caught the floral scent of petals and earth; blinking rapidly, she registered the spike of tiny, bell-shaped blooms in his hand and was thoroughly stumped.

"Uh," she tried lamely. What the hell was he doing? "Those are…nice."

"You like them."

It was _almost_ a question. Max regarded him with disbelief.

"Did I knock a few screws loose when I hit you?" she asked.

"Foxglove."

"Wuh-huh?"

He jostled the flowers that still hung before her nose. She resisted the urge to tear through them with her teeth.

"They are called Foxglove," Omega repeated. "Wildflowers that grow around the facility."

"Fascinating."

He lowered his hand and considered the magenta petals.

"I thought you would like them," he said, further confusing. "They are pretty, but poisonous. I assumed you would relate."

There were about ten different emotions that ran rampant through Max at the point. Of all the things she'd been called, poisonous was a new one.

"That's romantic," she huffed. "Really, I appreciate the comparison."

The slight frown on his face betrayed the uncertainty he felt towards her reaction.

"Women like flowers," he insisted calmly.

"We also like chocolate." She made a show of checking his person for any candy, then frowned with exaggerated disappointment. "But if you don't have that, setting me free could always work."

She was getting to him; she could tell by the shadow in his eyes. Truthfully, his romantic notions astounded her. Who had put him up to this? What kind of game were they playing? Certainly Omega wasn't genuine. The Director had to have erased romantic instincts and urges in order to keep his mind on just the one track: Destroying her, of course.

"I cannot woo you if you aren't here," he said. Max nearly choked on her own saliva as she felt her eyes widen considerably in response. Omega placed the flowers on her shoulder where it could tickle her face enough to be annoying for the rest of the day, then stepped away. "I'll give you time to appreciate them. Once you do, we can talk about our future."

Max was still fish-mouthing as he turned and headed for the door. His steps were so steady, so determined, that she wanted to knock him off his feet just to derail him as he'd done to her. Beating him senseless afterwards wasn't an unwelcome possibility.

"Hey!" she snapped loudly. "Get back here!"

Still, he made for the door. Her voice gave him no pause.

"Untie me!" Max demanded.

He grabbed the handle, turned it.

"_Omega!_"

Pulled the door open, and exited into the hallway. Max nearly screamed in frustration.

"Your flowers suck!"


	4. Chapter 4

**At last, we get an idea as to when exactly this fic is set canon-wise. I realize this chapter might not be as interesting as the others, considering it's Flock POV rather than Maega goings-on, but it had to happen. Thank you for reading and reviewing!**

* * *

Fang, for once, was afraid.

He'd been afraid before, of course; fear for his life, for the lives of the flock, for Max, for the world, the future. Many things scared him.

But this was a terror unlike any he'd felt before.

Max was gone. And not only was she gone; no, he had no idea whatsoever where she was. Skid marks in the parking lot of the fast-food chain they had visited suggested that someone had taken off in a hurry, and he had a feeling that that someone was in possession of their fearless leader. But they'd left no trail, no scrap of evidence that pointed in any direction. The skid marks were in the lot behind the restaurant, and the vehicle could have headed anywhere from there.

He should have known. That boy, that _Sam_, had looked so shaky, so conspicuous, not to mention his very presence there in Kansas; which, Fang liked to note, was nowhere near Virginia. But one cold look from Max had told him not to follow her and that rat to the hallway where the bathrooms—and the emergency exit—were located.

They'd all flown in every direction to try and find some hint of her. A speeding SUV, a helicopter, anything. Upon meeting back in Colorado, in the new home the CSM had graciously built them, each member reported no findings. The smaller kids were restless. Iggy was tense.

And Fang…

Well, Fang was rather pissed.

"It was five minutes," Gazzy said helplessly. "How could she disappear in five minutes?"

Fang sighed. He'd asked himself the same question dozens of times already.

"This is bad," Nudge piped in. "She didn't even make any noise. That's not like Max. She always makes noise, she always screams and fights and…and tells us to run, or just to let us know there's trouble." Her lower lip quivered, and she bit down on it to steady the tremble. "Always makes noise…"

That was true. Max was never one to go quietly.

"What do we do?" Nudge asked, her voice a quiet squeak.

Iggy crushed the plastic straw in his hand. He'd been stirring his drink without taking a sip, without saying a word. Like Fang, Iggy had faith in Max's ability to take care of herself. He probably worried for her the least out of anyone because she was capable, his bully older sister, the sturdiest caretaker. Now, he was obviously bothered.

Again, Fang sighed.

"We'll start in Virginia."

They all turned towards him. Gazzy and Nudge's eyes lit up at the scrap of a plan he'd conjured. Angel looked less hopeful, her face weighed down with distress, and Iggy simply frowned.

"We'll go back to that school. With any luck, he'll either still be there or they'll have his files," Fang went on. "We can find Sam from there."

"Why would he take Max?" Angel asked.

"I don't know, but we'll—"

The phone rang and startled each one of them. They all stared warily at it, and Fang knew they had the same thought he did: it was either Max, or her captors calling with a dire message or demand. Either way, Fang leapt for it and snatched the phone from its cradle, his heart racing in his chest despite the calm that clung to his face.

"Max?"

"Fang?"

His chest ached. That was Jeb's voice.

"Fang, what's wrong? Is Max not there with you?"

Fang remained silent at the question. If only. If only she were there, safe, and ordering them around as was usual, he would not be so worried, so stressed and afraid. He could feel the stillness of the others behind him. Their tension loomed over him, pressed against him. It was suffocating.

He took a heavy breath. The rise and fall of his own chest steadied him.

"Jeb," he greeted plainly. Everyone else in the room deflated at the name.

"Fang," Jeb said again, and he had that tone Fang knew too well, the one he used when one of them wouldn't listen as children, when he and Max were arguing and poking at each other, when Nudge wouldn't share something with Angel. Fang stiffened at the traces of authority Jeb still thought he had. "Where is she?"

He gritted his teeth.

What were the merits of lying, and what would the truth cost them?

Apparently Jeb's question had riled someone on his side of the line, as Fang heard a slightly familiar voice that raised his hackles.

"What's wrong?" The voice was faint and riddled with immediate concern. "Is she not there?"

_Dylan._

If there were even the smallest trace of serpent DNA in his blood, Fang would have hissed. As it were, he flipped through the various consequences of lying or revealing that, no, they did not in fact know where Max was.

They could be stuck on their own, or Jeb could help.

And drag Dylan with him.

"Why are you calling?" he decided to ask. Jeb wouldn't have it.

"Tell me what happened," Jeb coaxed. "We just returned to the States from Africa. Weren't you all headed back to the U.S. too?"

Well, yes. It had seemed as good an idea as any at the time, and Max was so anxious to return to their home country.

"We ran into someone on the way back to Colorado."

Jeb's silence goaded him. He knew that silence too well. It was the façade of patience, when really Jeb was dying to drag every detail from him.

"Someone involved in the Virginia fiasco," Fang said. He took a breath, calmed his nerves at the memory of Sam's nervous face, of Max's last words within ear shot: _Stay here. I'll be right back._

_Not true_, Fang thought. _You didn't come back._

Lost in his thoughts, Jeb's voice tried to break through to him. "Fang?"

_Why didn't you come back to us?_

"Tell me everything."

…_Back to me?_


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry for the delay!**

* * *

Jeb hung up the phone with a steady hand.

The cradle clicked with the ended call. He stared forward with no consideration of Dylan's rigid posture beside him, no awareness of the worried green eyes that bore into him, of the handsome face creased with stress. This young man had been introduced to his fated love not two days ago, and now she was missing.

Jeb at last glanced towards the boy.

Good. He should be worried. He should be riddled with fear over Max. They were meant to match, he was meant to care.

At least that much was running smoothly.

Sighing, he leaned forward and rubbed at his temples. So the Virginia boy Max had had a brief fling with drew her away from the flock, then disappeared with her without so much as a peep out of the girl. Well, he was growing less and less fond of kidnappings that his endeavors did not support. It was an awful pain retrieving his daughter from _other_ people.

"What happened?" Dylan asked at last. Jeb was impressed with his patience. After all, Dylan waited at least a minute before prodding.

"One more problem," Jeb said quietly. "Just one more bump in the road."

* * *

Omega stood before the Director with a small depletion in his self-certainty. Maximum Ride had not appreciated his flowers as he'd expected. It threw a wrench into the schedule, set him back a little. Said schedule wasn't very difficult or elaborate, and mostly followed a two-week stretch of time in which he would woo, romance, and wed the object of his affections. What few movies he'd reviewed before obtaining her attested to the formula.

They would eventually have a falling out. That much he expected, but did not know quite know where to fit. Most likely it would come between her love blossoming for him and a make-up kiss passionate enough to gloss over whatever their quarrel should happen to be over. Maybe they were fighting now.

That would make sense. She didn't like the Foxglove spike. He'd gotten the wrong flowers, and she was cross with him. Then he wasn't really behind at all, but could actually be ahead of schedule if he could just find a bloom she liked and present it to her, perhaps on one knee for an irresistible effect.

Omega sighed inwardly.

"She responded as I'd thought," Janssen mused. "Maximum was always our most difficult viable recombinant. I will warn you, Omega, that this scheme of yours will test your patience." She smiled. "Not that you have a breaking point."

As brilliant as he was, women were still a point of bewilderment. The Director was still confident in him. Max's feelings had changed from satisfied victory to grudging disinterest over time.

Why could they not be simple? He deserved for this to be easy. He worked so hard all his life.

And yet there she was on that screen, wriggling until the Foxglove had slipped from her shoulder onto the floor, and by her expression and lips he could tell she was dishing out each and every expletive and insult she could muster. Janssen had muted the feed some time before for exactly that reason.

"Don't worry, Omega," she told him, despite his outward calm. "Our game isn't over yet."

* * *

Submission.

Was submission defeat, or was only death defeat? Omega had asked himself that countless times since his fall under Maximum Ride's strike. Since creation he was programmed and trained to end her and prove he was the superior.

Eventually he translated it into a romantic sense. If she were his mate, she could fill the submissive role while still appearing his equal in all other tasks. And as long as she submitted to him in love and partnership, then, yes, he believed that meant he was the superior. Besides, who else could get her to surrender in any way, romantic or otherwise? No one.

Janssen granted him permission to take Max outside into the yard. It was encircled by an electrical fence, but due to financial cutbacks there was no barrier overhead. So, Omega outfitted Max with cuffs, as well as a thick binding strap that encircled her torso and strapped her wings tightly to her back. Her discomfort was a necessity. He could not have her escaping.

Oddly enough, she did not appear grateful for the outside downtime.

"Did you want to walk?" he asked. She snarled at him.

"Bite me," Max spat. "I'm not your pet. You don't get to tie me up and shove me around this stupid yard."

Omega paused.

"You'll want your exercise when you can get it," he insisted evenly.

"I'd get plenty if you opened the stupid gate," she snapped. His brow creased. Her conflicting nature was preventing her from keeping her muscles well kept and worked. Omega thought sunlight and fresh air would make her feel better, would make her smile.

"You will not be leaving. You will stay here, with me, and leave when you are allowed."

He'd expected to quell any silly fantasies she had of escaping. Instead, her scowl intensified, and she lashed out with a high kick to his temple that just scuffed the side of his head as he spun away from the blow. Turning back towards her, Omega found Max to be just inches away and ready to swing both fists into him. He side-stepped, hooked his foot around her ankle, and elbowed her in the spine as she tripped forward.

Max grunted and choked as she hit the ground without much grace. Just as he'd thought, she rolled onto her side and tried to upset his footing with her knees. He jumped and dodged, only to watch as she shifted onto her back and kicked upwards at his legs. Her boots caught at his calves, disrupted his balance, and he collapsed on top of her with a grunt. Before he could even still from the fall she was striking at him with every part of her she could use: her fists, elbows, knees, and he was almost sure she even bit him on the neck at one point before he managed to straddle and subdue her.

"Get off me!" she screamed. He held fast to the plastic tie around her wrists and restrained her thighs with his knees. She bucked, thrashed, and cursed at him. Omega kept his face a safe distance away lest she attempt a head butt.

So wild.

It was an attractive feature, even then. Her eventual submission would only be more satisfying. He would calm her, redirect her spitfire towards their enemies. There was so much in her he could improve and fix. And perhaps some of her would even rub off on him. Perhaps he could learn to…think, as she did.

"Let go!" Max demanded once more. "If a rematch is what you want, then untie me and I'll be more than happy to kick your sorry, deadpan ass again!"

Deadpan.

Was he so lifeless?

Yes. Janssen had instructed, had programmed, him to be. And now he knew nothing else. He didn't know how to insult, to pester, to goad. But he would learn. Maybe Max's personality would rub off on him, just enough to give him color. She could give him the true experience of emotion, and he would make her his perfect other half.

"We will learn together," he said. "I will be the good in you, Max."


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry for the wait!**

* * *

_"What are you doing here?"_

_They'd finally arrived back in America from their brief stint in Africa, and Max had allowed the flock to stop in a franchise on the interstate in Kansas. They'd all been so tired, and hungry, and just sitting down and allowing their wings a rest was an immense pleasure._

_Then he had appeared. Sam._

_The other kids remained sitting anxiously at their booth. Fang, of course, stood by her at the threshold of the hallway that led to the bathrooms and emergency exit. Sam fidgeted and looked shaken as Max faced him, glaring, her arms crossed._

_"I need to talk to you."_

_"Well, that's just too bad."_

_He seemed to pull together some resolve and finally met her eyes, no longer as twitchy, but there was a palpable desperation there. She found herself surprised by the mixture of fear and need in his tortoiseshell eyes, and finally turned to Fang a fraction._

_"Go sit with the kids."_

_It might have been easier to get him to listen just weeks prior. But now as they were officially a couple and Angel had delivered her terrible prediction of his death, Fang remained where he was until she shot him a heavy glare. His retreat was slow and marked by a particularly cool glare pinned on Sam. Once he was gone, however, Max nodded her agreement to speak and Sam led her into the hallway._

_It veered off to the right at the end, an L-shape, and he stopped there but did not face her. Max scowled. It didn't matter what he had to say. The only thing that mattered was what she wanted to know._

_"What are you doing here?" she hissed under her breath. "How did you find us?"_

_"I'm sorry."_

_It was as much of an admission as she needed to jump down his throat. She knew, she just knew he'd been in on the ambush in Virginia._

_"It's a little late for that, don't you think?" she scoffed unkindly._

_There wasn't much else to remember. He'd whirled, and in the sudden movement, the desperation still emanating from him as he descended upon her, the angry and startled shout cut off as he smacked his palm over her mouth, and the prick of a needle._

_"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."_

* * *

Max didn't know how long it had been, or how many times she'd replayed the memory in her head over and over, beating herself up for her stupidity. How could she have been so dumb? To just go off out of sight of the flock with someone who had already possibly betrayed them, it was the peak of idiocy.

Her cell wasn't quite as bare as it had been that first day, when Omega had come bearing the foxglove. Although she had asked for none of it, over time he brought small comforts, possibly noticing small problems on the cameras she knew they were watching her on. There was a pillow she never used, a blanket she'd angrily crumpled and tossed in the corner, the since-dead flowers brittle and lying upon the fabric.

She would have overturned the operation table she'd first woken up strapped to if it weren't bolted to the floor.

Sometimes Omega took her outside. Every time she fought him tooth and nail despite the bindings. Every time he bested her and dragged her patiently back to her cell afterwards. Sometimes she was allowed to eat in the cafeteria under his supervision. But there was hardly any eating involved as she spent most of that time glaring at him quietly.

He said strange things. He did strange things.

They had fought once more outside. After depositing her back in her cell he had paused, expressionless, as she panted and snarled and hated him, when suddenly he brushed an unruly lock of hair behind her ear and left.

She wondered what exactly they had planned. So far it felt like nothing. An endless, cruel nothing.

"Are you awake?"

The voice over the intercom. It was his, reaching her through the speaker in the wall. She knew he was on the other side of the door, not quite ready to walk in and be jumped by her. Max tensed where she sat in the corner by the door.

"No."

He was silent for a while. Probably confused, she figured. Omega was still slowly grasping sarcasm.

"May I come in?"

"Screw you!"

More silence. Then the static as he pressed the button.

"I've brought lunch for you."

Her stomach growled loudly. Thankfully she had not pressed the button to respond, but he may have heard it beyond the door anyway.

"I'm not hungry."

"You must be. With a required diet of three thousand calories a day and the exertion of fighting me, as well as your refusal to eat sixty percent of the time, I am right in assuming you're hungry by now."

Max flapped her gums in childish mockery of his annoying habit of being so damned smart.

There came a sound from the other side. It wasn't on the intercom, it was too muffled, and she turned her head towards the door when there came the softest thump.

He'd sat down.

"What are you doing?" she snapped over the intercom. His voice came back steadily.

"Companionable silence."

She pressed the button harder than usual out of agitation.

"What silence?"

"The one that would exist if you were to stop talking."

Her mouth fell open. Had he just...teased her? Her hand fell away from the button for a moment, twitched uncertainly in the air, and then she laughed. It was slow and unsure at first, but grew to something hearty and exhausted and half-crazed.

On the other side of the door, sitting on the hard tile flooring with his back to the wall and perfectly able to hear her through the doorframe, Omega felt the smallest smile take form of his mouth.


	7. Chapter 7

**Ahh! I'm afraid real life keeps catching up with me. Sorry for the delay, I hope you wonderful readers will remain patient with me!**

**Obvs I don't own Maximum Ride.**

* * *

"Samuel Walsh?"

"That's what it says."

Fang frowned to himself and flipped through the glossy pages of the freshmen section. Sure enough he was there, second-to-last page of the freshmen section on the bottom row, with brown hair falling into his good-natured smile.

_Bull_, Fang thought hatefully. _This bastard is anything but good-natured_.

As it turned out, their good ol' school in Virginia had shut down after the flock had burst free from its walls and menacing faculty. It was taped up and closed off, but that hadn't stopped Fang and Dylan from breaking in late at night. Unfortunately the file cabinets were littered with scraps, and there existed no files on one Samuel Walsh, or anyone for that matter.

If it hadn't been for the small stash of buried yearbooks Dylan found in an adjoining room, Sam might not have existed at all.

"So what now?" Dylan asked with a sigh. Fang pointedly kept his eyes on the picture in the yearbook. If he dared let himself look at Dylan, at that perfect blond hair and bright turquoise eyes, his taller build, excruciatingly perfect _everything_, he might punch him in his perfect mouth. This sorry clone's company was the last thing he'd wanted, but he and Jeb had flown to meet Fang and the flock in Virginia. Dylan was adamant in helping with the search.

"There's no address in this yearbook."

Dylan bit his lip and nodded.

"It isn't much of a lead," he admitted reluctantly. Fang couldn't help finally shooting him a look, as if to say _'you think?'_

Dylan only innocently met his stare.

"Maybe not..." Fang sighed. "But-"

He turned the yearbook in his hands and flipped to the back where white paper allowed friends to leave their signatures and fond good-bye's. The variety of ink colors was astounding, the difference in pen, sharpie, and gel pen glaring, some notes upside down, some sideways. It was hard to make sense of half the hurried script.

"Look!" Dylan said excitedly, and pointed to a series of numbers that had been hastily written down in the upper corner. "It must be the phone number of a friend of his, right?"

Fang nodded and looked into the other boy's hopeful eyes. They recognized the same thought in one another.

If they could hunt down this friend, they might take one more step forward in finding Max.

"All right." Fang snapped shut the yearbook and tucked it under his arm. "I'll meet back up with the rest of the flock and look into this in the morning. It's too late now."

He turned to leave, as there was plenty of space around the school to take advantage of a decent running take-off, but the other's voice stopped him abruptly.

"What about me?" Dylan asked, and despite the saddened note of loss-for his Max, Fang's Max-there was a hint of accusation and insult. Fang gritted his teeth and turned his head a fraction to cast the boy a cool glare over his shoulder.

"You?" he snarled. "You stay away from us."


	8. Chapter 8

**Pretty quick update, if I may say so! I'm afraid the last few chapters have been about the rest of the flock rather than Max/Omega goings-on, but seeing as this was originally supposed to be a one-shot and was encouraged into a full fic, I had to come up with a story on how she was taken. So. I'm afraid the explanation will be kind of like a little subplot popping up every now and then. Please be patient with me!**

**Ownership of all things Maximum Ride goes to James Patterson.**

* * *

Getting a hold of the boy in the yearbook-Daniel Easley, apparently-had been surprisingly easy. On the fourth time calling the number Fang was greeted by an old man, Daniel's grandfather, who happily turned the phone over.

Daniel was an open book, and eager to discuss Sam's recent disappearance.

"We'd been friends since grade school," he explained somberly, and cast a wistful look around the park they'd met in for their rendezvous. "We used to come here all the time and play Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles when we were little."

Fang remained quiet, but knew he'd have to let this information slip to Max when they rescued her. _Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles_. What a stud her date had been.

"When that new school opened up Mom really wanted me to go, and our parents knew we'd be bummed if we went to different schools. So he was enrolled too." Daniel curled his lips inward until his mouth became a thin line, his brow furrowed. "Early November he started acting...weird. The headmaster called him in one day and he was jittery afterwards but wouldn't talk about it. Then you and those other kids started."

Fang nodded to encourage him to continue. He'd briefly revealed that he'd attended the Virginia school on the phone, and upon Daniel's recognition it had been that much easier to lure him out.

"He took to that Max girl real quick. I mean, I don't blame him, she was real cute."

A slight spark of irritation alit in Fang's chest.

"But," Daniel went on, "he wasn't usually that...frank, you know? He asked her out just like that. I was surprised. And then that day when you all caused that big ruckus and left, he slowly went back to his old self. Then about a month ago I got this call."

He went silent for a moment, looking troubled.

"What was it?" Fang goaded.

"I dunno, man. It was real weird, and it sounded like he was dealing with some dangerous stuff. Maybe you shouldn't get involved."

"We're already involved."

Tensing at the voice, Fang turned at the voice to see Dylan approaching their picnic table and immediately felt the spark in his chest ignite into a flame of rage. His face remained neutral, of course, as far as Daniel could tell. Dylan ignored the slight flash of warning in Fang's eyes as he approached and took a seat next to him.

He was going to kill the pathetic, interfering, cow-eyed loser.

Daniel's stare flitted between them nervously. He was beginning to feel like a victim, and that wasn't conducive to their endeavors.

"It's all right," Fang allowed, if only for the while. "He's with me. We just want answers to find a friend we lost, and Sam is tied in somehow."

The boy bit his lip nervously and fixated his troubled eyes on the table.

"It's just..." he began, and sighed heavily. "He called one day and started freaking out about how he was in trouble, and he had to leave or they'd get his family."

"They who?" Dylan asked. Daniel shook his head.

"I don't know. He kept rambling over me when I tried to get him to calm down, he just kept saying they'd get his family, he had to go, he didn't want to hurt anyone, but he had to go."

* * *

**Next chapter will return to Max/Omega shenanigans, I promise~!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Guess who got some time off work!**

**Obvs I do not own Maximum Ride. All canon credit goes to James Patterson, this fic is simply the workings of a bored mind.**

* * *

"Again. Twist your hips more powerfully at the apex."

"I did."

"Harder."

Max sighed heavily and jumped, performing a complicated airborne kick, twisted at the peak of the leap, and landed sloppily on her feet.

"Hah!" she cried triumphantly. "How's _that_?"

"Messy," Omega allowed evenly, "but an improvement."

She scowled at him and shrugged. Omega had taken her into the yard for some downtime and decided to surprise her with a lesson on martial arts. Her wrists and ankles were unbound that time, and only the strapping around her wings and a collar kept her confined within the yard's fenced in area. He was pleased by her cooperation, however grudging it was, as well as her strive to learn each move he was willing to show her.

"All right, Yoda," she said, "let's see another."

"Maybe you should spend the rest of our time outside practicing instead, so you don't forget what you've learned."

Max rolled her shoulders back to stretch and groaned.

"Yeah, whatever."

For a while longer Omega was content to stand back and watch as she perfected each leap, kick, twist, and spin of the three techniques he'd shown her that afternoon. He could imagine moving alongside her in perfect unison as they battled their future foes together, in sync in every way, the ultimate force.

And maybe teaching their children the same style. His sleek and honed martial skill, connected with her brutal street fighting, they would be known across the world.

"Why are you showing me this, anyway?"

Yanked from his imaginings, Omega met her stare. Her breathing was even. The only evidence of her workout were the tendrils of hair loose from her braid.

"So that we will complete each other in battle," he said evenly.

"Uh, right," Max scoffed. "More like so I can kick your butt that much easier when I escape this heap."

Omega rolled his eyes, a frequent gesture she'd used and unintentionally taught him.

"I'm dead serious," Max assured, and the sudden shift in tone attested to her sincerity. "I might play nice for now because I'm stuck, but this doesn't make us friends. I'm letting you teach me this stuff because only an idiot would pass up the chance to learn it."

"We aren't friends," he agreed. "We will be more."

"Gross."

Something unpleasant coiled inside him. He began to feel more aggressive.

"You were aware of where this is going," Omega told her. "Eventually we will rule together, and our reign will be inherited by our child-"

"Whoa, wait, stop!" Max cut in. "Don't even say it. Jeez, this is even sadder than I thought!"

She turned away from him looking thoroughly stressed and, dare he think it, repulsed. His eyes narrowed. Almost regularly he'd found himself thinking of it since her capture, of the moment he would take her in his arms and lay her down beneath him. And each time he felt warmer, and refused to think on it passed that to prevent the overwhelming and foreign feelings that came with the fantasy.

But still she denied the path he'd laid out for them. He took a deep breath and straightened with authority.

"You won't stop it."

Max stopped her pacing and turned slowly towards him, and despite the blush that had appeared on her face just seconds before, her expression spoke of danger.

"What?" she asked quietly. The venom in the single note failed to chill him.

"We're going to be together."

Shaking her head, suddenly looking at him with disgust and pity, she laughed bitterly.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," she snarled, "which is why I'm not beating you down right this instant. But if I were you, I'd _watch it._"

"Why?" he challenged. "What are you looking for that I don't have?"

"How about someone with feelings!"

That struck him. Something he couldn't explain drove him forward. He could feel his face twisting the way hers often did when she was angry with him, each step taken with more enraged purpose as he neared her, Maximum, who tried to strike out at him as he approached and snarled as he took her wrists in his hands.

"Get off me!"

Omega wrenched her forward despite her angered protests and writhing. She kicked him. He hardly felt it.

"I _can_ feel."

Max blinked at the deep and threatening quality suddenly present in his voice, and he took the opportunity to show her just what he felt, what he intended, and pulled her roughly into a kiss.

* * *

**Bad Omega! That's not the way to win your lady love.**

**Apparently newly experienced emotions has its downfalls (such as bad decisions). Reviews always appreciated~**


	10. Chapter 10

**Very very sorry for the wait! Had to wait for inspiration to strike. So here you are~!**

**As always I do not own Maximum Ride. All rights go to James Patterson.**

* * *

Omega stood before the Director sporting a fine black eye and a strained expression.

Marian Janssen lowered her head and hid a smile behind her hands before straightening in her chair and regarding the boy with an eyebrow raised.

"Are things not going as planned?" she asked. Omega took a breath and steadied himself.

"Maximum Ride is not positively responsive to spontaneous shows of affection."

Director Janssen leaned back in her seat and smirked to herself, tapped several keys on the computer before her, and a short video was pulled up on her desktop, which transmitted to the much larger screen on the wall across the room. It showed in somewhat grainy detail Omega grabbing Maximum beneath a surveillance camera mounted on the roof of the facility and forcing an unpracticed kiss upon her.

Immediately afterwards Maximum reeled back and decked Omega as hard as she could in the face before stomping back towards the building and out of view.

Janssen paused the recording.

"I have to say, Omega, that for all your brilliance you are...tragically stunted when it comes to understanding women."

Omega blinked, a subtle show of curiosity.

"As well you should be," she added afterwards, and sighed. "You weren't programmed to be an eligible boyfriend for anyone, much less someone so difficult. Unfortunately, in order to consider this project worthwhile I must see a greater rate of progress. Otherwise I will deem this a waste of time and have Max terminated."

* * *

Omega rubbed his bruised face and strode slowly through the halls of the facility. Several Erasers of the latest generation also roamed the area either restlessly or going about business. What scientists were employed there hid behind closed doors, too immersed in their work to care about the romance transpiring between the creatures they were so obsessed with creating in the first place.

Or perhaps romance was not the best term for it. Omega felt he was still stuck in the wooing stage, and was not doing very well. What he did know did not include a punch to the eye.

He stopped his walk at the door of Max's cell and paused there. If things did not take a drastic turn for the better the Director would have her put down, and Omega felt, interestingly, that such an outcome would be utterly undesirable and regrettable.

Sighing, his pride as hurt as his face, Omega rapped his knuckles on the door to her cell and waited.

When no reply came he knocked more loudly.

Maximum's voice came over the speaker beside the door. "Screw off!"

It was as much of a welcome as he'd expected. After striking him she had stalked off towards the facility and allowed a pair of Erasers to escort her back to her cell without so much as a fight. Omega had known then just how angry she'd been with him.

He pressed the button on the intercom. "I came to talk."

Her voice returned instantly. "I _really _don't care."

A passing Eraser snickered at him and his predicament. What a fool he must appear to be, begging the captive to deign to chat with him. How embarrassing. Generation Omega did not _beg_.

Or at least he did not used to.

"I would like to speak to you," he insisted. After a beat in which he mustered all the humbleness he possibly could, he added: "…Please."

There came no answer. Omega took it as a sign that he'd surprised her with his plea. If she was busy debating now rather than coming up with new ways to reject him, he would have to take the opportunity to further appeal to her proud nature. He pressed the button again.

"I came to apologize."

After another stretch of silence her voice at last returned. "Fine."

With a small surge of satisfaction he keyed in the entry code on the number pad of her cell and entered, swiftly shutting the door behind him. Maximum sat on the operation table with her shoulders hunched defensively and distrust in her eyes. He decided to stay close to the door.

"You're looking beat up," she greeted with poisonous cheer. He tried not to feel annoyed.

"And you're looking…imprisoned," he returned cruelly.

Maximum riled instantly. Anger took to every part of her body; to her face, which contorted in a snarl, the way she leaned forward slightly, the tightened grip of her hands on the edge of the table. So exquisitely fierce.

But for the time being counterproductive to his endeavors. If he wanted to spare her life and succeed in obtaining her as his own, he would have to spend more time bonding and less time goading.

So as she opened her mouth to snarl something hateful back at him, Omega lifted his palms in treaty and spoke first. "I did not come to insult you. I came to apologize."

She stilled, and by her posture he could tell she wanted him to get on it quickly.

"My behavior," Omega began slowly, and stopped. He'd never apologized once in his life. Living as perfection embodied for so long had kept him from ever needing to. The Director had not raised him to be modest, and for all intents and purposes he was not. But he was intelligent and did see the wisdom in calming her nerves and improving her current view of him. "It was…rude. I should have asked permission."

Maximum snorted. "Is that it?"

So she wasn't pleased. He searched his brilliant mind for me, and went on. "No. You had…" Painful. This was painful. Omega took a breath. "You had every reason to react the way you did. I was out of line, and should not have presumed to touch you in such a way without consent."

Consent. The word had slipped so easily from his mouth, and by her look he could tell she was more accepting of this greater attempt on his part, but that single term brought to mind something else that had been bombarding his dreams for some time.

How badly did he want her to be the one begging? To be the one giving her consent, and giving into him with abandon, with need, helpless and wanting.

He snapped back to attention to find her speaking.

"…was really screwed up. Got it?" She looked at him oddly. "Are you okay?"

Omega became aware of the heat in his face. He must be blushing, and his eyes; he'd been so drawn into his own thoughts that they must have glazed over.

"Yes," he lied. "I am only embarrassed."

She frowned. "You know, you could learn a thing or two on human conduct. Social cues, tact, stuff like that? Even I know the basics."

He stared back at her and frowned at that. Human conduct. Social graces. Maybe these were some of the things she could teach him and better him with. He'd wanted to learn, hadn't he? How to defy as she defied, to think as she dared to so liberally. How to say _no_.

How to be a person.

"Such as the right time to kiss someone?" he suggested. She rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," she said. "Never a bad time to learn when that is or isn't okay."

"And you know," Omega guessed. She shifted uncomfortably.

"I guess," she said. "Look, as long as I'm stuck here I'll teach you some things, okay?"

He lifted his head hopefully. "How to kiss?"

"No!" Maximum nearly screeched. "How to behave like a decent person! You might as well start learning if I have to be around you."

Omega nodded his assent. "I suppose that would serve as a worthwhile pastime."

"Great," she said without enthusiasm. "Now get out. I'd like some time without you in my face."

Progress.

Was this it? Omega felt it surely was. Maximum had agreed to help him in some way, and he would benefit. As his mentor of sorts she would spend bonding time with him and teach him how to be even greater. He found himself looking forward to it as he had never awaited anything before, besides his anticipation of ending her life in Germany.

He placed his hand on the doorknob and twisted, but stopped to look over his shoulder. She raised her eyes to watch him in question.

"Perhaps," he said, "you could spare the time to teach me to kiss, as well."

* * *

**Omega, you dog! Tsk, tsk.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Sorry for the hold up, readers! Life's been somewhat chaotic and it's taken some time to smooth everything out again. I hope this chapter is enjoyable enough to make up for the wait 8(**

**All ownership of the Maximum Ride series and its characters goes to James Patterson. Were it mine, Omega would obviously be her true love or at least a member of her sexy man harem. Probably the latter. **

* * *

As it turned out, she would not teach him to kiss.

She did, however, become slightly less hostile during their time together, and spoke to him of things like freedom, like her flock, like the sweet satisfaction of kicking his ass, as she so charmingly called it.

Her insistence in teasing him was one thing that did not lessen.

She began to eat the meals she was given both with and without his company. Whether this was to maintain her strength for future escape attempts, or because her disgust with her situation had ebbed somewhat, or both, Omega wasn't sure. It was pleasant, however, to sit in her cell with her and have her behave normally.

More than that, it was pleasant to have conversation with another person.

"People think you don't have emotions because you don't _emote_," Max told him one afternoon, a mouthful of bland chicken having just been swallowed. He had asked her why she'd been so ready to dismiss his capability for feeling that day he'd kissed her, why the other super children did not bother with him.

Her answers, of course, were brutal and straight forward.

"You want people to think you've got something in there," she went on, tapping him none too lightly on the chest, "or even _here_"-at this she flicked him in the forehead, and he flinched with an unhappy grunt-"beyond calculation? Well, you gotta act like you've got something. Like you feel something."

"I was not meant to," he said. The levelness in his tone caused her to roll her eyes.

"But you've obviously got some kind of feeling happening," said Max, and she paused in her odd version of a pep talk to take another bite of her lunch. "You got pretty mad in the field right before I socked you good."

His fingers rose gently to his eye, which had just recently lost its dark bruise from when she had indeed punched him expertly in the face.

"I'm not sure there's anything missing," she went on thoughtfully. At that Omega looked at her, the only evidence of his surprise in the fractional widening of his eyes. "Seems to me like the Director's just been suppressing you all your life to keep you the perfect soldier, and maybe it turned into an automatic thing for you."

His eyes lowered. No one had ever spoken of him as a victim before, and they certainly had never referred to him as being whole, as not lacking something essential. They all assumed something had been taken from him. That he'd been designed to be empty.

And he'd taken on the role to please her. The Director.

Silence passed between them for a while as they both engrossed themselves in their tasteless meals. Omega felt something in him try to shift. He had quelled his emotions, yes, had pushed himself far down, deep below, back at the beginning. Back when he had first come to be and the Director wanted an unfeeling super soldier, when even with his genius he'd wanted to please her, and crushed that part of himself to do so.

But he felt himself wanting to please someone else, too. He wanted to please her, Maximum, and maybe that meant digging up that long-buried piece of himself to show her that he was worthy. That he was capable, and that he deserved her as no one else could. She was unsatisfied with him as he was.

That suppressed and almost forgotten thing…would it be enough to change her view of him, to draw her into his arms as he'd been trying to and failing impressively?

"I thought she'd just designed your emotions out of you the first time we met," she said, breaking through his thoughts. "The more I think about it, though, is that even possible?"

She seemed to be thinking more to herself.

"I do not know," Omega said softly. "I have never thought much of it. After your flock escaped the School five years ago, they quickly put together six decades of research and created me to kill you. It was my only goal, and I did not have time for self-evaluation."

"Wait," she said around a mouthful of celery, and choked it down at his unappreciative look. "So, you weren't made 'til after we were taken away from there?"

"No."

"Which makes you…"

"With the time it took them to successfully piece together their research, time spent on nonviable outcomes, incubation period…" He paused only a second. "Four years, since the time I was declared a viable infant."

At the sight of her open mouth, he added: "Accelerated aging."

"Like the Erasers," she said.

"Not as accelerated, but yes. They needed a solution to their renegade avian girl problem."

A hint of a devilish smile lit up her face, and he found himself appreciating the effect it had on her eyes.

"Hot damn," she said. "You're just a baby."

"Please," he said.

"Four years old, huh? I didn't know I was beating on a toddler."

Taking a breath, he said with tested patience, "Four-year-olds are not toddlers."

Max waved a hand dismissively, too amused by herself to care about the particulars.

"Whatever." Her nose scrunched up. "Ugh, does that make me a pedophile? Well, no, you kissed me, so what's the opposite of a pedo-"

"My mental level is well beyond my age," he interrupted. Her lips pursed in such a way that he knew she was trying not to laugh. Omega steeled himself.

"Okay," she said, the amusement clear in her voice even as she tried, for his sake, to let go the issue, "so you're done trying to kill me, right? Your whole life goal went up in smoke."

Her eyes turned serious, the chocolate-like shade of brown suddenly heavy with intent. Omega felt unable to look away, enamored and cemented by the intensity she was capable of when jokes were put aside. "So why don't you be done with all of it? You can be done with her."

The implications were enough to break the spell. He looked away, away from the confusing mess of possibilities she brought with her talk of freedom.

"You don't have to be her little soldier anymore!" Max persisted. "You could come with me. Come with me when I blow this joint. I know my flock's looking for me-"

His gaze cut back to her at that.

"-and they're not stupid, they'll figure out a way to find out where I am. But when they do, instead of fighting them, you could escape with us." At the uncertainty he radiated, she grabbed his sleeve and leaned towards him, so enlivened by purpose that he felt himself unable to resist the fierce grip she'd taken.

"So you're only four years old," said Max, quieter, and all the more severe for it. His breath caught. The way she spoke, as if the world contained only him, and what she wished for him to have- "Do you want to spend another four years like this? In a prison?"

It was not his intention, no. He meant to have her at his side as his partner, accomplishing a great reign over everything, and his fantasies had never included the Director or that facility, not that Janssen was aware of that. Just them with the world at their feet, driven and complemented by one another as they cast their shadows across the earth.

But it was a different view she held out for him. Hers included something softer, something with…friends. Hers offered her willful companionship, not as his subdued and perfected match but as someone real. Hers offered sunshine and life and a venture not so dark as he'd envisioned.

She rattled his views. Her closeness rattled him.

"I do not know," Omega said eventually, and a pitying glint took light in her eyes.

At that she drew away and settled back into her previous position where she'd only casually sat beside him to dine. He was relieved of her retreat as much as he regretted it. Slowly he dragged his gaze away from her to stare at the expanse of her cell without seeing it, as he saw instead the things in his mind, the mental image of fleeing with her and her flock, of living a life with her as his…what? His lover, his friend, a confidant. No longer a manipulated and redesigned tool.

Either way he could not help wanting her, but that desire was shifting. It was morphing into something stronger that he could not understand or describe to himself, a confused and wanton thing that could consider her idea to be just as viable as his own vision of power and lust and possession.

They finished their meal in silence, and as he went to the door to leave and looked back, the look she gave him was something he'd not been given by her before. It was almost sad.

It chased him from the room.

* * *

**Aww, inner turmoil. And no, Omega's brief origin story is not completely canon, but for me it is the most sensible theory. Nothin' like a sexy four-year-old, amirite ladies? (No it is not right, just in case you were wondering.) Reviews as always are appreciated!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Sorry about the wait! I intend to do better from here on out, things have just been a bit wild the last year. And for those who are wondering about Out of the Heart of Darkness, I have the new chapter for that one in the works (nearly done!) and it will be up as soon as it's finished and fixed up by the story's beta reader, my ever faithful AM83220. Until then, I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"She retired the equine girl."

The air was clean and beautiful; Max took a deep breath of it and exhaled, watching as the sunlight rippled across the grass while the wind combed through it in waves. Wildflowers sprung here and there in the colors of spring. At the bottom of the hill began the woods, alive with small wildlife.

"She…killed her."

The amendment drew Max's eyes to the side. Omega sat with her in the grass atop the hill, where down the slope was the electric fence between them and the forest. He kept his eyes fixed on the treetops in the distance, his face unreadable.

It had been five weeks ago that she woke up strapped to a table, and now she sat companionably with her warden in a sun-kissed field. The small light on her collar still blinked in warning, but his company was no longer violently rebuffed.

"Why?" she asked. Omega's brow twitched, a flash of a frown.

"She was too willful. That coupled with her muscle mass made her a liability."

"So as soon as she wasn't convenient to have around anymore, no more Charlie."

She saw something flash across Omega's eyes at that. Her main focus in teaching him how to interact with people was to teach him right from wrong, in part because setting him against the Director would serve her better, but also because she couldn't stand him waltzing around the facility feeling invincible. Reality would cut him in half if she didn't get through to him.

Finally he looked at her. There was something there she couldn't place, but Max hoped it was sense, that he was really beginning to see his mortality rushing at him if he didn't take action. Instead of admitting that, however, he stood and offered her a hand.

"It's nearly time for your lunch. Will you come with me to the cafeteria?"

Max felt her mouth quirk at the side. Slowly acknowledging his creator's crimes, asking instead of demanding; their time together was proving to be worthwhile. He was learning, and she hoped soon he would even open his eyes to the thought of a world outside of secret laboratories and genetic anomalies. He would have a chance at a real life.

And she would have a chance to escape.

Her hand clasped his. He hoisted her to her feet easily, and together they crossed the field back to the facility. Omega's hand held onto hers a moment too long. She gave it a reassuring squeeze, and eventually he let go.

* * *

It had been too long. A part of Fang wanted to give up, and the worst thing was he recognized it as his own common sense. The other part, the ridiculous and nonsensical part that ran on instinct and love, kept on going. For five _weeks_ it kept on going, kept telling him to push on, but that encouraging voice was beginning to fade.

Sam's friend could only offer so much. He told them Sam had headed west with his family and could offer nothing else. Fang left the little ones and Iggy with Max's mother, Valencia, and resolved to skim over every state west of Virginia he possibly could.

Dylan, of course, had invited himself along with the argument that two birdkids were better than one, that his eyes could see across time and space, and that Fang could not possibly hope to stop him. Jeb even stepped in to help. He told them what facilities had shut down after the world wide riot Fang's blog had caused a while back, where they were most likely to see any smaller locations maintained for such emergencies, and was able to pry enough information from former colleagues to rule out any foreign sites before being cut off.

Dylan scouted out the Kentucky and Illinois facilities Jeb mapped out for them in the time it took Fang to travel west and take a glance around New Mexico. Now they were outside Socorro with a shady hotel room and empty stomachs, and Fang was beginning to wonder if there was any real point in their aerial searching. What if Max's prison was underground? What if it was disguised as a museum or something?

"Sir?"

What if the whitecoats had already killed her? The thought was like a cold hand closing around his heart.

"_Sir_?"

Fang blinked the world back into focus and saw a girl watching him from the other side of the counter. Other customers were staring at him, too. That wasn't good. Attention was never good.

Clearing his throat, he stepped up to order himself and Dylan some food. The other boy could starve for all he cared but those stupid eyes of his were too useful to let go.

He stood to the side while his food was being prepared and tried his best to shirk the attention he'd gained before by looking completely ordinary. It wasn't easy, being tall, thin, dark, and unsmiling, but eventually the other costumers seemed to lose interest in him. Fang rolled his eyes towards the ceiling and waited, listening to the chatter around him by habit.

"You should see the flowers she picked for the ceremony, they go so well with the dresses-"

"-Gotta get it checked out before that trip, you don't want the serpentine snapping-"

"-Mixed up with drugs, I couldn't believe what I was hearing."

Just the usual chatter. A teenage girl, an old man, and a middle-aged woman, none of them worrying about whether their driving force had been murdered or strapped to some machine with tubes jammed through their flesh.

"Not my Sammy, he was always so sweet."

"He does seem like a nice boy."

"And having to move all the way out here, I miss the Virginia weather so much."

Fang felt his body tighten and his heart flutter. His eyes shifted to the side where the middle-aged woman sat with her friend. He could barely see her in his peripherals, but there she was: shorter, looking weary and heartbroken, with the same wavy brown hair as that life-ruining, girlfriend-kissing, cowardly rat _bastard_.

It couldn't be.

"But if those dealers were threatening you all like he said, it's all you could do."

The mother shook her head and clutched her cup in her hands.

So, then. The little liar had convinced his family they were in danger with some drug ring he'd gotten mixed up in and had them move. Fang supposed it was better than telling them he was involved with an underground genetics lab that kidnapped and tortured small children.

"I thought," the woman went on, "that if anything, we could go to Oregon. It's so lovely there, and we could live seaside, you know? But you should have seen how pale he got at that idea, like I'd invited his dealers in for tea. He said that would be worse, that they had contacts stationed there."

Her friend sighed. "Well, with all the kidnappings that happen there too, I'm sure it's best. I hear kids are disappearing in Oregon all the time."

Heart racing, Fang slammed through the exit and made for the hotel, food forgotten.

* * *

_"…Wasn't convenient to have around anymore…"_

Those words echoed through Omega's head incessantly for the rest of the day. Max had eaten and retired to her room-no, her cell; she was always telling him to face the truth-after leaving him with such a dreadful promise. His headway with Max was creeping too slowly, and Marian Janssen was not renowned for her patience.

He strolled the halls with his fists tightly clenched. Would she soon dub Maximum's presence no longer convenient? Would she give up on Omega's desires and snuff Maximum's life as easily as she did Charlie's?

The thought of it drew him to a stop in the middle of the hallway. He should go back to her cell and corner her, not let her resist or delay anymore, take what he'd intended to have at the very beginning. Omega could imagine the way her moans would sound in his ear, throaty and reluctant at first, but soon hungry and wanton, surely, after all the progress he'd made in her eyes, he could see it when she looked at him, in the curve of her lips when he took her view into consideration and saw things for what they were-

He shook his head and brought a had to cover his face. It had grown warm. His body felt torn into two directions. _Go. Take her._

_She'll hate you._

A shuddering breath escaped him. Satisfy the Director and break the avian girl, or satisfy Max, tread slowly, lightly, earn her genuine affection, and risk her life being forfeit?

Fists clenched, he turned and strode back down the hall.

* * *

**Thank you for reading! Reviews are always welcome and appreciated, and I apologize again for the lag with my updates.**


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